letra de highway - ingrid michaelson
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on a highway along the atlantic i’m rifling through these last 17 years.
the radio waxes romantic.
it’s lullabies fill our eyes with tears.
we don’t say a word.
there’s nothing to say that hasn’t been heard.
and how you’ve grown my little bird.
i’m regretting letting you fly.
6 pounds and 7 ounces.
a ball of bones and flesh and tears were you.
now your hands, your tiny pink hands, grew larger than my hands ever grew.
we don’t say a word.
there’s nothing to say that hasn’t been heard.
and how you’ve grown my little bird.
i’m regretting letting you fly.
i’m regretting letting you fly.
i’m regretting letting you fly.
on a highway. on a highway.
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